I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather following a nasty head cold. ‘It’s nature’s way of telling your body to slow down’ is what my Nana always used to say; I think she was right. Having a cold usually coincides with a drop in my hearing and I’m inclined to become a bit more reclusive when this happens. After the high drama of the studio move it’s felt like a relief to be honest; I think things needed to calm down a bit and so I’m grateful for this period of quiet time I’ve allowed myself.
Now that I’m getting back on course, I’m really aware of the benefits of writing this blog; thinking about it and writing it has already started to create a kind of discipline in my day to day life and I’m very glad in this respect that I started it when I did – it’s keeping me stimulated creatively and mindful of the dangers of procrastination and slipping off the radar – serving the same purpose as a studio in many ways.
I’ve also been without the internet over the past couple of days – I just got reconnected last night. Even though it was for a short time, I was surprised at how quickly I felt out of the loop with having no access to social networks. Writing this blog over the past few weeks has helped me feel effectively connected to fellow artists, welcomed as part of a community and has compensated in many ways for not having a studio.
Other social networks like Twitter have also helped me to ‘stay visible’ amongst my contemporaries, something I remember once hearing Bob & Roberta Smith say was an important part of being an artist. It’s not something I always find easy to do but it’s something I’ve nevertheless been aware of ever since. I’ve realised the importance of keeping in touch with what’s going on in the wider art community and responding to it.
I’ve noticed what a familiar theme community is on Artists Talking. I’m reading about so many other artists striving to feel a sense of belonging, whether it’s in an actual studio space or through virtual interaction. Not surprising really because at the heart of all of us there is an innate need for compassionate understanding from others. Whether or not this need is more pronounced amongst creative people I can’t be sure, but what I’m certain about is that such understanding nourishes the creative spirit and helps it to grow. We all have a fundamental desire to fit in, to feel a part of society and as the division between the haves and the have-nots grows ever wider, perhaps the need to be part of a like-minded community has become greater still.
I know for me a studio represents an emotional as well as a physical space; from past experience, having a studio has given me a clear understanding of the importance of my own personal space, one in which I’m able to completely absorb myself in my work – away from the distractions of domestic life – the clothes that need to be hung out, the carpets that need to be vacuumed and so on.
In terms of creating this past week, my output has been small. Some of my time has been spent catching up on what other artists have been up to – but for me this week Keeping It Together has been more about quiet reflection, space to think and generally slowing things down. Hopefully it’s the calm before the creative storm.
